


A Room in Chisinau

by godless_hippie



Category: Killing Eve (TV 2018)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, F/F, Villaneve, and a comedic duo, post 3x05, they're both idiots
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-12
Updated: 2020-05-12
Packaged: 2021-03-03 03:14:07
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,303
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24147976
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/godless_hippie/pseuds/godless_hippie
Summary: “We’re not having sex,” Eve declares.Villanelle smirks. “Are you sure?”“Yes,” Eve convinces herself.“Okay,” Villanelle says lightly. “You’d want to, eventually.”
Relationships: Eve Polastri/Villanelle | Oksana Astankova
Comments: 25
Kudos: 327





	A Room in Chisinau

**Author's Note:**

> This is for Jodie Comer's delivery of the line, "I think I need to kill you, Mama."

The second time Villanelle asks her to run away, Eve says yes.

A swift twist by Villanelle’s able hands and Dasha’s neck makes a resounding snap before she drops motionless on that dingy bowling alley in Perm.

“Let’s go, Eve,” Villanelle says, her voice a quiet urgency, as she extends a hand out; with all the weapons in the world, they may still be the deadliest. It only takes Eve a second before she’s taking it in hers.

That was six days ago. Six days of Villanelle making endless efforts to put as much distance between them and the Twelve. Killing Dasha means they’re both being hunted by the organization now: Eve knowing too much and Villanelle showing her true loyalty doesn’t lie with them.

Throughout their escape, Villanelle maintains a focused intensity that Eve only ever witnessed briefly in Rome. It’s terrifying at times, how her face completely goes blank and ignores Eve for hours as she plans their next steps. Eve would feel so alone when this happens, but leaves Villanelle be, knowing that any mistake would mean both of them dead.

Sometimes, when Villanelle gets a moment of respite after she’s made sure she has covered all her bases (sight on people coming and going, exit strategy, easily-accessible weapon), she gives Eve a look that stops the air in her lungs. A gaze that makes Eve feel like she’s the only one Villanelle ever truly sees; A wide-eyed clarity, an answer to an impossible question. It lights Eve’s skin on fire.

_“I’ll look after you.”_

Villanelle is making good on her promise now, a year later.

They were able to sneak out of Russia through a loosely-policed border into Ukraine. They spent two days cutting across the country before reaching Moldova.

Chisinau. The city is filled with buildings that echoes its Soviet past. The river Bac is a lazy vein through a concrete jungle. It is only here that Eve’s adrenaline has started to wind down and she notices that Villanelle has also noticeably relaxed. Her body isn’t in its usual stealth, her shoulders not perpetually locked in place.

Although they always share a room the past days (for tactical reasons), Villanelle had always asked for separate beds. Eve wonders quietly why, not that she wanted a shared bed, or anything. Of course not. There are more pressings things at hand. In the end, she decides that Villanelle didn’t want to be disturbed in her sleep; god knows it takes a lot of energy keeping the two of them alive.

As they got to their room this time however, only one queen bed is waiting for them. They quietly eye it, but either are too tired to go all the way down the lobby (elevator’s broken and they’re on the eighth floor) to demand a new room. 

Feeling the day’s toll on them, they take turns taking a shower without much of a word. Villanelle goes first, taking almost an hour. Eve is faster, 15 minutes and she's done. By the time she leaves the en suite, Villanelle is already on one side of the bed, lounging like a cat. She grins when she sees Eve.

Earlier that day, Villanelle bought them couple pajamas from a department store with brown walls and buzzing fluorescent lights.

“Can’t we just choose _not_ matching pajamas?”

“Don’t be ridiculous Eve, how am I going to pick you out a crowd when things turn to shit?”

The garments in question were silky and grey, with an embroidered heart on the chest pocket. Eve, of course, ends up wearing the man’s pajamas and has to roll the pants around her ankles so she doesn’t die tripping on them. Her hands disappear from the extra fabric on the sleeves.

“You look cute,” Villanelle says sweetly. Eve rolls her eyes. Of course Villanelle turns out amazing with the almost sheer-cut versions of what Eve’s wearing.

“You’re an asshole.”

Villanelle only hums in reply.

Eve eyes the uncomfortable-looking couch pushed against the wall with the windows. Villanelle watches her, following her trail of thoughts and quirks an eyebrow.

“You take the bed, I can take the-“

“Come to bed, Eve,” Villanelle interjects with a little sigh, dropping her head back to the pillow.

Eve stands still for ten seconds, debating with herself. In the end, she quietly obeys. There’s no point being sore and sleepless tomorrow. She gets under the covers and faces Villanelle, who watches her like a predator.

“We’re not having sex,” Eve declares.

Villanelle smirks. “Are you sure?”

“Yes,” Eve convinces herself.

“Okay,” Villanelle says lightly. “You’d want to, eventually.”

“Oh, really?”

“Yeah.” Villanelle’s reply is full of bravado that Eve can’t help but to smile back. “Actually you want to now, you’re just stubborn, Eve Polastri.”

“I don’t want it now. I mean I don’t want it, _ever_.”

“See? Stubborn.” Villanelle makes a little stretch, arms above her head. “Don’t worry, I’m not going to force you.”

A quiet passes between them, and Villanelle takes her time to carefully study Eve’s face and Eve’s throat goes drier.

“Goodnight, Eve.”

“Goodnight.” And she didn’t mean for it to sound so tender, but seeing Villanelle’s eyes soften makes her not regret it.

Gracefully, Villanelle turns her back to Eve and settles. Eve watches her honey blonde hair and _wants_.

Why _does_ she have to be so stubborn? she wonders. Wonders further if Villanelle would lose interest in her the moment she gives her what she wants. Where would that leave Eve? Fear grips her, imagining waking up alone in this bed in the morning.

“Eve?”

“Uhm… yes?”

“I know you said no sex, but can we at least cuddle?”

Eve, finally, allows herself. “Sure.”

Villanelle whips her head around, stunned. “Are you serious?”

It’s these instances, when Eve manages to surprise Villanelle, that she feels something resembling to power. “Yes.”

“Wait,” Villanelle turns to fully face her. “But do _you_ want to? You don’t feel forced or anything?”

It’s bizarre, this whole exchange, that Eve has to laugh. “Look at you, queen of consent.”

“It is important to me. You know they have a whole debate about it in France? Some people think asking for consent ruins the mood. Well, I don’t think so. I think it’s sexy.”

And _oh, god,_ Eve is truly head over heels for a murderous psychopath who advocates for women’s power to consent.

“It’s good to know your moral compass in that department is in the right place.”

“Yeah,” Villanelle agrees with a slight tilt of her head, enough to look snobbish. Eve wonders how many people know of Villanelle’s humor. Most of them probably just see her as a pretty face. Or whatever persona Villanelle presents before taking their life.

“Yes, Villanelle,” she speaks clearly. “You have my consent.”

If anyone is eavesdropping (and Eve hopes to god that’s not the case), it sounds like they’re coming to terms over a business deal. Not the fact that chaos around them has settled long enough so they could be in a room alone and cuddle.

“Turn around,” Villanelle instructs her softly.

As soon as Eve does, powerful arms pull her back. Villanelle nudges the back of Eve’s knee to fit her leg on the space it made. Her arm slides over and wraps Eve in a tight embrace. Her lips ghost against the back of Eve’s neck and Eve imagines the skin there burning a hole through her bones.

“This is okay, baby?”

Instead of answering, Eve takes Villanelle’s hand that’s slightly hovering on her heart and completely draws it to her chest, keeping it close. Keeping Villanelle close.

“Eve?”

Of course she needs verbal confirmation.

“Yes, baby, this is okay.”

It’s sinful how solid Villanelle feels. Her body is lean and strong, fortified by years of training. Yet it maintains its gracefulness that enables her to execute a man by severing his femoral artery without him noticing.

Eve is flummoxed by how much she wants this. She has spent most of her time wading in the shallows and resisting the tide. It didn’t occur to her what it would actually feel to be in the deep end.

“God Eve, you feel so good,” Villanelle whispers, as if reading her mind. Eve is almost lightheaded. She can’t seem to form a coherent thought to reply. Her heart just beats like a drum. Villanelle presses her palm against it and feels. “Look at you. You’re adorable.”

Eve swallows, hard, and forces herself to say something. “Are you scared? That the Twelve are after you now too?”

“No.”

“Not even a little?”

“I know I’m in danger, but I don’t feel the fear. I just don’t see the point.”

“It’s evolution. You pull your hand back when it touches the fire too long. It’s how you stay alive.”

Villanelle thoughtfully nibbles on the helix of Eve’s ear, and it’s torture, really, what Villanelle is doing to her.

“I’m different Eve, remember? It’s not that I’m refusing to be afraid. It’s because I can’t.”

“Right.”

“I’m not stubborn. The stubborn one is you.”

“Wow, really?”

“It’s true. Why won’t you admit it Eve, that you want me? What is there left for you to lose?”

Eve braces herself, takes a deep breath, and plunges into dark waters. “You.”

“What?”

“I’m afraid that you won’t want me anymore once I give in. What if you get bored because the chase is over? Would you leave? Would you kill me and go back to the Twelve-”

“I’ll always want you, Eve.”

“But that’s not true,” Eve argues. “You shot me, and left me to die.”

“This is different.”

“How is it different, Villanelle?” she demands. Villanelle stiffens and stays silent. “Well?”

“When Dasha aimed that gun at you? I wasn’t sure if I could stop her on time. But I can’t-” Villanelle’s voice breaks.

“Can’t what?”

“I can’t stand the thought of you dying, okay? I was ready to take the bullet.”

The weight of Villanelle’s words doesn’t fully sink in right away. “You… you were going to sacrifice yourself?”

“I’d die for you, Eve.” _Fuck._ “I’d kill for you.”

It’s not lost on Eve that the reason Villanelle was in that bowling alley too was she had orders to execute Eve. Kill the MI6 agent and she becomes a Keeper. Eve doesn’t even work for MI6 anymore, but she knows that wasn’t the point. When it’s taking too long for Villanelle to do it, Dasha grew impatient and volunteered to kill Eve herself. That’s when Villanelle snapped her handler’s neck like a brittle twig.

“Fuck.”

“You are always so profound.”

“Shut up, I- I...”

“You don’t have to say anything. I just want to know if you’re okay with it.”

_Are you okay that this is my version of love?_

In retrospect, it may have been the most romantic thing Villanelle could possible say.

“Of course.”

“I know it’s not normal, and it’s not enough, but I can-“

“You’re enough.” Eve chuckles wryly before she continues. “And sweetheart, normal doesn’t really cut it in this relationship.”

“Relationship?” Villanelle’s accent savors each consonant. “Eve, are you my girlfriend?”

“Oh, god.”

“Because I’d like to take you on a date if you are.”

“Villanelle, we’re running for our lives here. We don’t exactly have time for a walk in the park.”

“I’m thinking more like a steamed lamb and a really good bottle of wine. A restaurant by the river. We can eat at the patio.”

“That sounds wonderful and I love nothing more, but you know we’re in so much danger right now.”

“After?”

“After what?”

“After we stop running, we can come back and do that?”

“It’s a date.”

Villanelle’s pleased hum makes her heart flutter.

“So…you really don’t want to have sex?”

“Jesus.”

“You don’t have to do anything the first time, you know? I can just-“

“Okay,” Eve interrupts, feeling herself getting wet. She twists around to face Villanelle, their faces only inches apart.

“I’m not saying no to the, the-“

“The sex?”

“Yes that, but-“

“Why won’t you say it?”

“Huh?”

“Why won’t you say sex? Are you a prude?”

“What? No! Sex, there, I said it. I’ve had sex for god’s sake, I was married for 12 years.”

Villanelle’s eyebrows shot all the way up, amused. “Wow, Eve, having sex within the boundaries of your marriage. How kinky of you.”

Eve almost tells her about Hugo, but she stops short. She’s not quite sure the effect it would have on Villanelle and what kind of damage control it entails. She stores that information for later.

“As I was saying,” she adds, attempting to salvage the conversation and a bit of her dignity. “I’m not saying no to the sex. I’d want to, eventually. It’s just, I think I need more time to process everything that’s happened, you know, with Niko.”

“Of course. I am only teasing you Eve. Only when you’re ready.”

And Eve can’t help it when she leans in to kiss Villanelle. It’s chaste, and they exchange a few more after, Villanelle taking impossible effort to stay within her space and not let her want take over. Instead, she lets Eve set the pace. When they part, slightly breathless, Eve grins at her.

“You’re right.”

“About what?”

“Consent is sexy.” Villanelle smiles, then it turns into a yawn. “Let’s get you some sleep, my knight in shining armor.”

“I like that,” Villanelle comments on the nickname.

Eve returns to her position and Villanelle fits herself perfectly behind her. Soon, Eve would be ready to dive off the cliff and into the darkest part of the ocean. Only that time, she’ll be able to say she wasn’t pushed. She jumped.

Villanelle kisses her shoulder and murmurs, “I’ll wait forever.”

And Eve should have known, that Villanelle is a hopeless romantic.

**Author's Note:**

> dare i say it, consent is sexy. tumblr: villanelle-x


End file.
